


Don't Let Them Take Me

by Nony (DirtyanonsofThedas)



Series: Story Prompts for Tumblr [11]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyanonsofThedas/pseuds/Nony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Hawke gone, Anders finds himself hunted down. His only choices: let himself be captured or accept the help from an old acquaintance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Let Them Take Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustinCOMS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustinCOMS/gifts).



> I was given the simple prompt of Carver/Anders and Don't Let Them Take Me from my dear heart, PrinceArcus.  
> I'm fairly certain that I took certain liberties with this...my mind tends to wander when I'm given a new pairing that I adore. And when asking for a prompt from this particular Nony, it's best to expect smut!

Anders was frantic, running for all that he was worth.

He hadn’t counted on the Templars being able to keep chase, with all the heavy armor they were wearing. He had squeezed into every nook he could find, down every back alley, and tried to melt into the shadows. No matter where he stopped, he felt completely exposed. He called himself a fool for not taking Isabela up  on her offer on how to be stealthy, regardless of what he knew she wanted in return. He vowed that if he survived the night, he would beg Varric to teach him.

They had cut off all access to Darktown and he barely escaped the patrol that passed in front of the Hanged Man. His only means of escape now was to head to Hightown and somehow convince Bodahn to let him hide out in Hawke’s cellar, for as long as it took. His breathing was ragged, as he pressed up against the wall of the stairs that lead to the Blooming Rose. If he was lucky, they would think he was still fumbling around Lowtown or maybe even the docks. He just hoped they hadn’t already sent another patrol to cut him off. From here, if he ducked in doorways and stuck to as much of the shadows as possible, he might have a chance to make it to safety.

When he thought he heard the soft clank of armor, he pressed himself even more painfully closer to the wall. It forced him to focus, to calm his breathing before he inched his way up the remaining stairs. Once he was near the top, he quickly peered to the right, dreading that it came from the direction he needed to go. From his position, he realized he had two options: he could either go right to make a mad dash out in the well-lit area to get to the nearest hiding spot, or he could try to hide himself in the shadows by the Rose.  Anders knew that, either way, his luck was running out.

The Templars knew that, with Hawke gone for an undetermined amount of time, this would be their one and only chance to capture him. And, he shuddered to think, even make him Tranquil before Hawke returned and retaliated. Knowing it was likely a bad decision, Anders decided to hide near the brothel. He thought, if forced to, he could duck inside and make use of the meager coins he hadn’t spent on supplies. It wouldn’t buy him much time but he was hoping the Templars wouldn’t want to get on the bad side of the Coterie.

He moved a few barrels from the corner and sank wearily down behind them to the ground. Anders knew that, given his current condition, he wouldn’t last much longer on the run. His heartbeat had become erratic and he still couldn’t take a full breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this frightened and he absolutely hated feeling helpless, knowing that if the Templars caught up to him now, he would be absolutely weak and defenseless.

Anders leaned his head against the rough stone wall and closed his eyes, for only a moment. They flew open in a panic when he heard the scrape of a boot nearby.

“You’re still pretty visible in that spot,” a voice said from the nearby doorway.

It took Anders a few moments to realize that he recognized the voice. He wasn’t certain if it was a blessing or a disaster that he was the one to come across him. He chanced a quick look to make certain that they were alone. It was then that he realized that it was the first time in months that he had seen Carver wearing something other than his heavy Templar armor.

“I should have known there was a reason they didn’t want me involved in what they had planned for tonight’s patrols,” Carver said, mainly to himself as he turned in the other direction for a moment.

Anders knew then that he was done running; he didn’t have the energy. He sat back and watched dejectedly as Carver Hawke turned and walked back towards the entrance of the Rose. He couldn’t say he was surprised, seeing as they hardly got along before the younger Hawke ran off to become a Templar.

“I’m not going to carry you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Carver called back to him, pausing briefly in the doorway. “If you want to avoid getting caught, then I suggest you come inside with me.”

He was shocked by the brusque, demanding tone that Anders loathed from others, but even he knew that this would likely be his best way to avoid capture. What he couldn’t figure out was why Carver would even help him at all, unless there was something he wanted in return. But even then, he was putting himself at risk. Anders sighed, slowly stood and rearranged the barrels back to their original spots. He followed the other man into the brothel, wondering exactly what Carver had in mind to keep him safe.

“Take that hallway and head towards the last door on the left,” was all Carver said when he noticed Anders standing close to him. “No one will bother you.”

Anders turned and was headed down the hall before realizing that he was following an order, from a _Templar_ , no less. But, from the tone he had used, he somehow knew that Carver expected him to do what he said. He fumed as he continued down to the hall and stopped at the last door just as he was told. He briefly wondered what the young Hawke would do if he found the room empty. Still curious as to why Carver would risk helping him, Anders placed his hand on the latch and walked inside. Compared to the rooms off the main hall, the room was sparse when and much smaller. Even so, he couldn’t help but wonder just how it was that Carver was able to secure it so quickly and without question. He waited for his answer.

“I can’t say that I’m shocked that my brother didn’t consider your safety when he left Kirkwall,” Carver said as he walked in a few minutes later carrying a bottle. “I just can’t believe he would be stupid enough to leave you behind unprotected.”

He watched as Carver added another piece of wood to the fire before answering, carefully removing his jacket and tossing it on the back of the chair. In truth, Anders had asked to remain behind, not wanting to admit that he just couldn’t take watching Hawke flirt with another elf. And if Hawke had his way, which he always had, Anders would also have to stay well away from the Hanged Man to avoid hearing about Hawke’s bedroom exploits, in great detail.

“I asked to stay behind,” Anders replied hastily as he sat down. “Your brother offered to let me stay at the estate but I, admittedly, foolishly refused.”

Carver leaned against the wall and stared at Anders, as if he was trying to make a decision, and tapped the bottle against his leg.

“Maybe next time you’ll swallow that stubborn pride of yours and accept when someone is trying to help you,” Carver said finally, which brought Anders to his feet.

“And why exactly are you helping me, Carver?” he finally demanded.

“Don’t like owing anyone a debt, do you, Anders?” Carver said and moved away from the wall finally. “Well, don’t worry about it. You’re going to repay me for coming to your aid, right now.”

Anders crossed his arms across his chest and watched as Carver pulled the cork out of the bottle with his teeth. He spat it out the cork onto the floor and grabbed two glasses. Without asking, he poured a generous amount into each.

“And exactly what are you expecting in return for being my Knight in Shining Armor?” Anders asked as he raised his eyebrow at the younger man. “Even if you did forgo actually wearing the actual armor…”

“You.”

Anders’ body went completely still, wondering if he had heard correctly. “You’re joking…”

“I’m not,” Carver said as he watched Anders sit down heavily. “Don’t think I forgot the looks you would give my brother when you thought he wasn’t looking, Anders. Or even the looks of disappointment when he would walk out of the Hanged Man with someone else on his arm.”

“Why exactly do you want me, Carver?” Anders demanded, looking up sharply as he walked towards Anders and stopped in front of him.

“Because, while my brother was a fool to ignore you, I am not,” he answered. “I’m not going to force you. I would _never_ do that to you. And, I won’t pretend that this is anything more than what it is, just this one time.”

Anders licked his lips, feeling his body respond, trying to come up with a decision. If he was really honest with himself, he already knew what his answer would be. He’d been alone far too long. He would be a fool to deny that he wanted to feel someone else’s hand on him and hear someone else’s cries, other than his own. He looked up at the Carver differently now: not as the boy who so wanted to get out of his brother’s shadow, but as a man who grew into his rugged good looks. He realized that Carver’s shoulders were broader than he remembered and that the eyes he considered to be filled with resentment were now filled with a desire…for him.

 “Or you can leave now, knowing that you owe me,” Carver said as he finally handed him one of the glasses. Anders stared at the dark liquid for a moment.

“Ok,” Anders said softly as he looked up at Carver. Anders stood quickly and drank the entire amount in one swallow.

Carver also drank quickly, simply dropping the glass before grabbing the front of Anders’ torn tunic and brought him in for a heated kiss, which caught him completely off guard.

There was nothing gentle about that first kiss. Carver was demanding, exploring deeply with teeth and tongue, almost to the point of bruising, but Anders didn’t move even when he tasted the coppery taste of blood. In truth, it took his breath away, to be kissed so thoroughly. Instead, he placed his hands on Carver’s arms, digging in his fingers and feeling the muscles as they flexed when he squeezed. Carver dug his fingers into Anders’ hair, snapping the tie. He pulled his head back, kissing and biting at his neck, hard enough to almost break skin but not hard enough to hurt.

It’s here that Anders was aware of the tingling under his skin and he finally pulled back from Carver, who was smiling at him strangely.

“What did you give me?” Anders asked as he tried to take a few steps away from Carver, only to lean heavily against the nearest wall.

“Aqua magus,” he replied as he turns Anders to face him. “I’m told that it has a different effect on mages than it does on Templars.”

“It feels like there’s electricity in my veins!”

 “They say that every sensation is,” Anders moaned as Carver bit his neck. “Heightened.”

It was true. His skin was hypersensitive and even the slightest touch caused him to cry out. Anders started to squirm, not wanting the sensations to stop. He reached up and away from both of them and tried desperately to find a different type of release. Carver pinned both his hands above his head and looked at him sternly.

“No magic, Anders, or I will leave you like this,” Carver warned as he gripped Anders hard, jerking their hips together and looking at him intently as he ground against him. “Take this off… _now_ ,” Carver growled as he pulled at Anders torn tunic, running his hands under the material to feel even more of the mage’s body.

Carver kissed Anders’ torso, tonguing scars that he came across on his way down, enjoying the sounds that the mage made with every bit of skin he nipped at and each scar he gave his attention to. He dipped his tongue into his belly button, trailing wet kisses down to the top of his trousers. He planted a kiss on Anders’ hip, licked a line across his abdomen and stopped just above the closure. He moved lower still and mouthed him through the material before impatiently pulling at the ties, slapping the mages hands away when he tried to help.

He pulled them down only far enough to free Anders’ cock, wrapping his hand tight around his shaft, causing the mage to cry out and tense as he stroked him. Carver was focused on only one thing. He looked up at Anders as he leaned in to slowly lick his crown, feeling him shudder as he swirled his tongue. He brushed his lips down to his base then licked slowly up, repeating this several times before taking over half of his length into mouth. He started to suck, listening to Anders gasp at the brush of teeth.

Anders lost all ability to think as he looked down at Carver, lost in the sensation of teeth, warm mouth and tongue that surrounded his cock. Anders called out his name over and over again as Carver worked his way even lower, finally taking all of Anders’ cock into his mouth.  He tried desperately not to thrust deeper even as he felt it hit the back of his throat. Ander clutched at Carver’s strong shoulders, especially when he felt the other man’s hands working their way up his inner thighs. There’s an underlying sensation as well for Anders. The feeling he had after drinking the aqua magus had been much more than what Carver described. He had felt as if he had been filled with raw power, with no outlet. He realized now that the feeling was slowly ebbing with each pull of Carver’s mouth, along with each place he caressed.

From past experience, he knew the Templars do something similar which drained away a mage’s power all at once so that they are unable to use magic. What Carver was doing was similar, yet he managed to do it even more slowly and in doing so, drawing out the pleasure that Anders felt.

Anders’ body tensed as he reached his climax, involuntarily thrusting deeper into Carver’s mouth as he cried out, amazed that he did not move away until he was completely spent. When Carver finally pulled his mouth off of him, Anders tried to bring him in for a kiss but was surprised when the younger man pushed him back and moved away from him to a nearby table.

“Did I do something wrong?” Anders asked, still slightly dazed, and almost missed the small jar that Carver tossed to him from the table.

“Undress and use that to prepare yourself,” Carver commanded as he finally started to quickly remove his clothing.

Anders turned slightly, tugging his trousers down his hips, uncertain how he had changed so much in such a short time. Carver had grown cold towards him once more. Now he wasn’t sure if he had made the right choice in staying.

“No, I want to see you do it,” Carver said, his voice breaking slightly which broke Anders out of his thoughts.

Anders turned back to face him, about to argue, yet his breath hitched as he watched Carver stroke himself. He generously oiled his fingers and did what he was told, turning slightly so that Carver had a full view of his hands. He started off slowly, pressing one finger in gently, frustrated that he could not reach that spot deep inside. Soon he added another finger, crying out as he arched back against his fingers.

“Enough!” Carver growled as he spun Anders around to face him, kissing him deeply. “Get on the bed, Anders. I want you on your knees.”

This time, Anders didn’t do what he is told.

“No,” he said as he placed his hand on Carver’s chest.

“Don’t deny you want this too, Anders,” Carver said as Anders slowly ran his hands down his torso.

“I do want you,” the mage said as he gently kissed Carver’s jaw. “But I want to watch you this first time. I want to touch you, to kiss you, to drag my nails down your back when I’m close.”

“This first time?” Carver asked, surprise clear in his voice as he looked deep into Anders’ eyes.

“Next time, you can have me any way you want me: above you, on my knees or upside down, hanging off the bed while you hold my thighs,” he whispered as he kissed Carver lightly. “I can assure you that I’m _very_ flexible. But for tonight, I want to watch you.”

Carver shuddered as Anders wrapped his hand around his cock. “If you don’t let go, I’ll make do with pressing you up against the wall, with your legs wrapped tight around my waist, Anders,” Carver said, watching as the mage shuddered. “But I’d really prefer taking you to bed.”

Anders smiled as he led the younger man to the bed. He kissed him as they settled on the mattress, with Carver held himself up above Anders. He watched as Carver rocked his hips, rubbing his hard cock on Anders’, who arched back.

“Please, Carver,” Anders whined. “I can’t wait.”

Carver sat back and watched Anders spread his legs wider for him, wanting nothing more than to just continue touching as much of the mage’s skin as he could. But with Anders looking at him with longing and Maker he knew, his body demanded relief. He griped his cock and aligned himself with the mage, pressing in ever so slowly, and moaned as Anders tightened around him. Carver knew he had to give Anders time to adjust, not wanting to cause him any pain. He had given him almost no time to prepare, since watching him alone had tested his limits.

Anders threw his head back and moaned when Carver finally started to move, pulling out and thrusting in, placing his hands briefly on his chest as he rocked his hips at a steady pace. Once Carver placed his hands on the bed, bringing him within reach, Anders pulled him down and pressed their foreheads together. He could finally make out what Carver had been moaning under his breath with each and every thrust: _Mine, mine, mine,_ he heard him chant to himself. Anders craned his neck up to kiss Carver, pulling him even closer to his body so that his cock is now trapped between them.

It took one simple word to push Carver over the edge: _Yes!_ Anders whispered it in Carver’s ear as he felt the mage draw his knees up closer to his chest, giving him the chance to shift himself up for a newer, better angle, and one that allowed him to move his hips at a faster pace. He felt that they were both close and with Anders tightening around him, Carver could no longer hold back. His thrusts became harder and deeper as he watched the mage’s face as he stroked him to completion, spilling over his hands onto Anders’ stomach. The intensity of his climax pushed Carver over the edge and he cried out as he shattered.

Neither man had the strength to move at first. The best Anders could do was raise his hand up and brush Carver’s hair off of his sweaty brow. Carver groaned, barely able to move back enough to pull out of Anders and settled down next to him on his back, fighting sleep as the mage curls up next to him. Anders draped his arm across Carver’s midsection, twining their fingers together, and for the first time in longer than Carver can recall, he was calm and at peace.

“Did you mean what you said?” Anders finally asked, with his cheek pressed firmly against Carvers shoulder.

“When?” Carver asked as he ran his hand down the mage’s back as Anders looked up at him.

“You said it repeatedly under your breath,” Anders reminded him and Carver nodded.

“ _Mine_.”

“Do you mean it?” Anders asked once more.

“Do you?” Carver asked but he can see from the soft look that the mage gave him that he already knew the answer.

“Yes.”

Carver smiled down at Anders, just pulled him close and kissed him gently in response.

**Author's Note:**

> All my love to Virusq for being a fabulous Beta!  
> Artwork that inspired this is called Discretion by Tengukun.  
> http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Discretion-257768627


End file.
